In the Dark
by pancakesandeggs
Summary: when the ronins face an enemy there armors can not defeat they have to find something stronger within themselves...


**Chapter 1**

Dark clouds rolled in overhead as a group of five young men trekked up a long dirt road, bags under their arms. The night was unusually quite and the moonlight danced in and out like ghosts in the shadows. The group arrived at a small log cabin tucked in the ebony forest the dead trees looming, reaching, just as it started to pour.

"That's why I said we should rent a car," informed the last youth to enter the shelter, "your van has been dieing for months Kento." A burly young man only snickered at the remark.

"What's the matter Cye? Scared to walk in the dark?" He teased. Cye frowned but kept his mouth shut. He finished hanging his fall jacket and sat on the couch next to Ryo. The black haired youth plucked a remote off the nearby reading table and pressed 'power on'. A large flash of light followed by an ear shattering crash lit the room, and then all was dark.

"Ok, now what!" the bearer of torrent scowled. Each of the men groaned before Rowen stood to take action.

"I'll go see if I can get the power back on." He stated simply as he threw on his dark blue denim jacket, then grabbing the flashlight, he went out the door. The rain stung his cheeks as he walked around the side of the house, and his new white Nike shoes squished in the mud. He was happy to get them a little dirty; the blinding white seemed a little dorky in his opinion and made his fair skin seem that much more ashen. He paused, mopping some rain from his face, and then turned the flash light to a small box on the side of the wall. As he drew nearer he could hear a strange and disturbing noise from the shed only a few yards away. Rowen puzzled unsure of whether he should investigate or merely fix the power and return to the others. A sigh escaped his lips and he turned toward the box, he reached out and his long slender fingers brushed up against something foreign and unnatural. Biting his lower lip he directed the beam at his fingers and saw thick dark red blood on the side of the cabin. Gulping he followed the slanted trail with the shaking shaft of light and came to the body of a young woman. Her features were contorted in agony and her body was separated from her head. She looked almost as if she had been ripped at by a wild animal. That's when it came, it filled the air and seemed to suffocate him… a stink so vulgar he could only retch, the stench of a thousand decaying corpses, it burned his nostrils and eyes to the point where he could barely see. The blue haired youth fell to his knees gasping for air; the world around him seemed to be spinning and as everything started to fade he noticed a figure dressed in black carrying a large blood stained sword. The figure came from the direction of the shed and stop right in from of him. Slowly it dropped down to eye level, one blue eye and one brown eye bore into his then it spoke in a low quite tone.

"In Nomeni Patri, Fili, Et Spiritus Sancti." Then all was black.

Rowen screamed and bolted up right in bed, the sheets clung to his sweat covered body and he ripped at them trying to get his breath. He coughed and sprang to his feet quickly running to the bathroom where the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach could be taken care of. After it seemed like there was nothing left he sat on the cool tile floor and stared at the dark crack leading to the rest of his house. Something about it seemed so wicked and sinister. The bearer of strata drew his long legs up to his chest and rested his head against the wall the whole time staring out the sliver to the nothingness beyond. He refused to close his eyes until the first rays of morning sun filled the hall past the bathroom door.

"Rowen?" Sage called as he entered his best friend's home. Usually the taller blue haired boy would be sitting in the living room ready for the day and sipping on a cup of tomato soup. Sage walked down the hall to his friend's room and paused in the doorway. The sheets were all disheveled and there was vomit on the floor, the blond frowned. _What happened here? _He wondered. _Rowen is never like this... even when he's sick he's tidy. _The bearer of halo turned and took the last few steps to bathroom; he poked his head inside to see his comrade curled up and asleep on the floor.

"Rowen?" the soft familiar voice stirred strata from his slumber. He blinked in the light and slowly turned to regard the man hunched down next to him. Rubbing his eyes he sat up and caught a glimpse of one blue eye and one brown. "_In Nomeni Patri, Fili, Et Spiritus Sancti_." Rowen lurched backwards and gave a startled cry. Sage blinked bewildered and Rowen shook his head slightly then looked sheepish.

"Sorry." He grunted getting to his feet. Strata lumbered into his room and pulled on a black tee shirt and some holey blue jeans.

"What's wrong?" Sage questioned leaning in the doorway, but the only response he got was a shrug. The blond felt his brow furrow, "What does In Nomeni Patri, Fili, Et Spiritus Sancti mean?"

Rowen froze, _How did Sage know…?_ Slowly Strata turned to face his friend.

"You whispered it in the bathroom after you freaked out." Halo informed. The blue haired youth shook his head.

"I don't know," He looked in to his concerned friend deep violet eyes then continued, "I had a dream… lots of bad stuff happened and then someone came to me and said those words… I don't even know what language they are." Sage nodded.


End file.
